Chapter Five: The Council of Chiren
“State your name.” the Councilwoman says, her voice evidentially as blah and blank as she can make it, though she seems to have perked up with some sort of interest.
“I-iarin, ma’am.” the girl says, her voice screaming whistle pitched and shaky and quiet, but her eyes straight ahead, intelligent, serious.
“Iarin?” The Councilman on the far left repeats, voice booming and echoing throughout the hall. The other Councilmembers, who evidentially hadn’t heard Iarin’s halting stammer, suddenly perk up with curiosity.
Iarin, now in the spotlight of four different shocked stares and one clueless one (mine, in case you hadn’t guessed) looks like she just wants to die. She pulls a small piece of very worn paper out of her bag and starts to walk up to the front, tiptoe-tiptoe but her steps still echoing uncomfortably loudly, as they do when you have to give an oral report at school and the space between your desk and the blackboard seems infinitely long. She hands the paper to the Councilwoman, then steps back a bit.
The Councilwoman examines the slip of paper. “Iarin.” she repeats, for just about the fiftieth time today. “And you’re a Healer.” she adds, her voice a bit contemptuous, as if anyone who wasn’t a fellow Councilmember is far beneath her revered and holy attention.
“Y-yes...” she says quietly. “I’m here to help the people who were injured in the Sareilian attack, I’m from Ath-“
”I know where you are from!” the Councilwoman snaps. Iarin flinches horribly.
“I...I...I-”
The Councilwoman tosses the paper back to Iarin with a contemptuous flick of her wrist. She catches it in trembling hands, bows quickly, and backs away. Another one of the Counciljerks flicks his hand in a “shoo, shoo, get out of my sight” motion and says:
“Hurry up and complete the work you were sent here for.” Iarin nods vigorously and makes her way back down the hall towards the doors. As she passes us, I can see her trembling from head to toe. Down the hallway and out the door, little footsteps echoing to the high ceiling like the coughs of the dying.
The shaft of light from the open door is quickly snuffed out as it closes behind her, leaving the room in its stained-glass pallor, the incoming light trapped within the thick panes of color.
What was wrong with her? I wonder. Sure, the Council were generally being jerks, but... I dunno. The sadness and fear I saw in her colorless eyes seemed greater than that, somehow, and the reaction of the Councilcreeps incongruous as well. The tension was sword-cutting thick, a mutual fear and distrust running among them, but under the callous eyes and crocodile snap voices of the Council, Iarin was just like a mouse caught by the tail. But why though? Just what could she have done, this fragile little girl with a whispery stammery voice and a bag of heavy books who was evidentially a Healer, just what could she have done to this country of gleaming gold and straw windmills and a dark green flag with a leaf in the center? Just what?
I’m still busy reflecting on this when I realize that the Councilmembers are giving us impatient looks.
“Yes, well.” Koreth says, “I’m Koreth and-“
”I know who you are!” snaps the Councilwoman, who, evidentially, knows everything.
“I’m certain you do,” says Koreth with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which remain emotionless except for a glittering of something that makes me shudder instinctively. “But, you know, I wanted to be sure. After all, I haven’t had the opportunity”- the light stress on “opportunity” contains the vaguest hint of sarcasm, “ -to visit your city in quite a while. It seems that many of the Chirenian officials are quick to forget the faces of those they’ve locked-“
”Shut up!” the Councilwoman shouts suddenly, then her hand flies to her mouth and she takes her own advice, retreating into a hurried silence. Yet again I see in smeone’s eyes the expression of one facing down a dangerous animal, a mixture of fear and repulsion and contempt in her expression. But for once, that hatred is not directed at me, but seemingly, at Koreth, who stares straight ahead with a polite smile on his face as though he’s used to all this.
“Well, it’s only the truth, really. And I suppose it does make some sense, after all. A Spellweaver with only one spell left is too weak to fight in Sareil, but still a threat to all the people you value, so of course it makes more sense to put them somewhere where, even if they escaped, they could only possibly hurt the ones you don’t care about.” Koreth gestures toward the guard and the mayor, whom the Council have been ignoring up to this point and continue to ignore now, focused as they are on the person they actually consider a threat.
“Okay.” the Councilman on the far right says at last, “What do you want from us?”
Koreth points back in our direction. “The mayor of Yoake has determined this girl, Emma, to be a threat to their village security and sentenced her to death. I would rather like you to override this.”
“That’s all?” says the Councilman doubtfully.
“Yes.”
“After which you’ll return to the tower at Yoake.”
Koreth frowns slightly. “.... I don’t believe I remember saying that.”
“W-well, we’re saying that!” says the Councilman on the far left. The others give him looks of alarm.
“Really. Let’s pretend for a moment that I’m disinclined to follow this request, and I say so. Precisely what is it that you think you can do in order to convince me otherwise?”
“We...we-” the Councilman suddenly looks as though he’s thought of an idea. “That girl. She can die, right here, right now.”
Well, I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking...
“Oh, really? I don’t think you’ll do that.”
The room falls silent. The Councilman glances back and forth as though weighing the odds. Finally, he sighs, sinks back into his chair, and stares at the table for a few seconds.
All right. This looks like it might just turn out okay.
The Councilman, still looking determinedly at the long center table, opens his mouth to speak.
“Kill her.” he says.
The guard smacks the back of his own still sheathed blade against the backs of my knees, knocking me to the ground. My sword is knocked out of my hands and spins away, clattering against the wall, out of my reach, but it doesn’t matter anyway because my arms are pinned behind me and I can’t move, I can’t move and the sound of the air that the blade crashes through is earsplitting but still only a whisper, and yet again I’m about to die–
“Stop.” Says a voice that’s full of icicles, very, very quietly but still echoing through the silent room.
I dare to look up, just a little, and can feel the cold blade scratch the back of my neck, just enough to draw blood. Koreth has turned to face us, one thin finger pointed directly between the guard’s eyes.
But he’s just bluffing, I think miserably, and these people will figure that out sooner or later—
The Councilman, meanwhile, looks like he’s gone a little bit insane since I last looked up, standing up again, leaning forward, and screaming at us:
“Do you think I care what happens to some GUARD? Do you think I’m worried? You’ve got one spell, just one, and if you use it on the guard, we’ll summon another to kill her! If you use it on any of us, the guard will kill you both! All you’ve done is back yourself into a corner!” The other Councilmembers alternate between giving their friend looks that definitely say shut up shut up shut up and exchanging frightened glances among themselves. The Councilman ignores them, rocking back on his heels with a self-satisfied smirk, looking around as though daring someone to challenge his opinion.
Someone does.
“That may be so,” says Koreth quietly, “that may be so, but...” he lifts his hand from between the guard’s eyes and points to the window. The struggling sunlight has the faintest reddish tint from the coming end of day, “how long do you think you have before that sun has set? I think, probably about an hour. When the sun goes down, I’ll have another spell. And if you harm Emma, I’ll destroy this entire city with it.”
“WHAT?!” the Councilman exclaims, apparently outraged. The rest of the Councilcrazies give him rather pointed, I-told-you-so looks. The guard still has his sword trained on the back of my neck, but is looking around at his superiors like, why’d you have to drag me into this? while the mayor edges obviously toward the door.
“How much money did it take to build a city like this, I wonder?” Koreth goes on speaking, as though to himself, “How much to rebuild it, more importantly? You’ll have to press the poor citizens for more taxes. You’re in the middle of an unpopular war. It’s important to keep the people’s favor so that they’ll continue to fight in Sareil. Indoctrination works in Naroth and the villages, of course, but what about--”
"How dare you accuse us of--”
"But what about the more educated parts of the empire?” Koreth just gets louder, speaking over the Councilman, “The people will despise you. They’ll rebel. Sareil will spot your weakness and swarm on it, and Hanora will be consumed within a year. And all because I had to go and burn your golden city down. How unfortunate.”
“You’ll die.” says the Councilman, “If you destroy Chiren, you’ll almost certainly burn with it, those spells cannot be controlled--”
"I’m aware of that. And unfortunately for you, I don’t care all that much.” Koreth smiles brightly. “You know why, I assume.”
Silence. The Councilman studies his desk.
“Go.” he says, finally. “Just go.”
Koreth smiles, real smile this time, the strange sparkle in his eyes gone. “Thank you.”
The guard sheathes his sword and I climb unsteadily to my feet. As Koreth and I walk down the hallway and out the door, I can hear the Councilmembers arguing amongst themselves.
“That’s just... that’s crazy.” The Councilman mutters, sounding dazed.
“Well, of course it is!” snaps the Councilwoman. “All Spellweavers go insane in the end!”
* * *
“Er... Thank you for that...” I say as we walk down the red brick path.
“Not a problem.” Koreth says brightly. "The Council and I aren't exactly the best of friends... I'm sorry you got dragged into it. Won't happen again."
"It's okay." I’m not sure what else to say, so I just drop the conversation.
As we walk, I can’t help but think about the Councilwoman’s words. All Spellweavers go insane in the end? I just... don’t get it. Well, not really. I mean, as much as I like Koreth (Which isn’t a whole lot. No, really. Really. What are you dwelling on the parenthesis for, anyway? G-go read, okay?) I can’t help but agree with the insane part. But “In the end?” What the hell does that mean? Was she just trying to be dramatic, or does she mean, like, “at some point,” or—
My train of thought is interrupted by a familiar blonde head popping out from the door of what looks to be the most opulent hospital ever built.
“Hey, Iarin!” I call, “Over here!” I mean, I don’t want to bother her, but her panicky reaction to the Council worried me a bit. I want to make sure she’s okay.
Iarin looks around in confusion and I wave my arm so she can see me. She gives a quick little nod and hurries across the path toward us.
“Y-yes?” She says warily, “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing.” I assure her. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and all.”
“I’m fine,” says Iarin in a voice that’s too high-pitched to be convincing, but I let the matter drop.
“We should probably head for the gate,” Koreth points out, “In case the Council changes their minds.”
“Good point. Let’s go.” as an afterthought, I add, “Uhm, Iarin, do you want to come with us? I feel bad leaving you here all alone.”
“Okay”
“By the way,” I add as we head down the road, “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Emma, this is Koreth. He’s a Spellweaver, and I’m clueless.”
Iarin turns to Koreth, startled. “Oh. I... I’m sorry.” she whispers.
“Eh?”
Neither of them seem to want to look me in the eye.
“Please... don’t worry about it.” Koreth says at last.
“Oh. Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Well, anyway... I somehow ended up here from Phoenix, Arizona, and I’m trying to figure out how to get home.” Even as I speak, those words ring a little hollow in my ears. I wonder why that is, but deep down, I already know why.
I don’t want to go home. Deep in my heart, I know that for sure. After being in this place, after finding this unknown strength and this unexpected friend, how can I go back home? How can I return to monotony and routine, cacti and a two-season year, to getting sunburnt in May? How can I go back to my parents, to my nice teachers and my strict ones (especially Coach Chartz, who is truly and undeniably sadistic), to Kathleen and her boyfriend? How do I continue with homework and final exams, with TV watching and picking a graduation dress? How do I face the sneers and the whispers of my fellow students, how do I look at the hate and the condescension in their eyes with knowledge that I came off on the right side in a fight with a dragon? Is that even possible?
No. No, I decide. It’s not. I’m not going back. Hanora might be a hostile place, but now I’ve got someone, maybe even two someones on my side, which is far more than I had in Phoenix. Although there had been little chance that he would have had to carry out his threat, Koreth could have died for my sake. Why would I give that up for Kathleen? I’d have to be absolutely stupid. Which, well, I am, but not that stupid.
“Emma...? Are you.... okay?”
Er.. Whoops. Time to end the internal monologue. “Y-yeah, Iarin, I’m fine. I was just thinking...”
“Thinking about what?” asks Koreth.
“Er...” I say, and I can feel my face burning. I’m not sure I want to say this... It’d be like... admitting... ah, well, I don’t want to say it, is all. I need a way to change the subject.
As the sun sets, I suppose most people must be making their way home from work, because the streets that were relatively empty on our way to the Councilbuilding are now starting to fill up with people, flocks of them, looking strangely shabby against the shining gold and silver on every other surface that reflects off the blazing sky. It’s like being in a freaking hall of mirrors, everything seems to be smeared over with red.
At the wall, it looks like the guard it arguing with someone again. (The Chiren guard, that is. I think the Yoake one is now groveling his case out with the Counciljerks).
“Wonder who’s trying to get in now,” I say absently.
Koreth and Iarin both glance in the direction I’m looking. Now that I am really listening, I can tell that he’s not arguing at all, in fact, he’s being polite. Practically bowing and scraping, really.
“Yessir, yes, we just weren’t prepared this time sir, we—“
The person he’s calling “sir” is so tall that the guard has to crane his neck and stand on his very tiptoes to look him in the eye, reminding me of a kid trying to get out of being grounded for breaking a window. He looks a bit creeped out, and I can’t blame him. This guy’s pretty creepy.
He seems to loom over us all even from twenty feet away, and dressed in dark blue robes. What I can see of his face is arranged into an expression of acute distaste, the rest is obscured by long black hair that, in the weird light, is tinted an odd blue-ish shade.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Kagami.” Koreth says automatically. “That’s Kagami.”
“He’s c-commander of the Hanoran army.” Iarin adds, “h-he’s a very skilled general...”
“I don’t get what he’s doing here. He’s not the sort to just drop by at random. I know him, you see,” Koreth adds at my confused look, “He’s also head of the Spellweaver units... anyway, I know Chiren was attacked recently, but it’s all been settled now. Is he just here to get them better security, or...”
As Koreth is speaking, I glance back in the direction of the wall. Whilst the guard is busy groveling his apology for groveling, Kagami is glancing around at the city, looking at the sky, the walls, the Councilbuilding, the fountain, the red brick path–
And then directly at me.
It feels like my head is splitting open from behind, like there’s a knife digging into it, a feeling I can barely explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it. My vision blurs and the view before my eyes is blocked by streaks of red and orange and yellow, which I now begin to recognize as fire. I must be hallucinating, I think in a detached sort of way, but I can feel the heat of the flames and for some reason I think I’ve been here before, among the fire and the distant shouts, and I can’t see the sky and the wall and the buildings anymore, the crackling of the fire and the screaming is all I can hear. It’s the strangest feeling I’ve ever had, like whatever grip on myself I have is loosening, weakening, like I’m being taken over, but not in the marionette-string sense. I feel as though there’s another me, a different me, struggling to run away but just getting me (us?) further trapped in the inferno, and all the while that glare is watching me, and I know I know I know I’ve heard that name before. Kagami.
The voice whispers in my head. The voice from before, the voice that told me to use my strength on my own, the voice that took control of my mother’s voice to pull me out of my own world.
The voice says to me:
The memories that you have are not your own.
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*Sigh* The sad truth, folks, is that I used to like this chapter. That is no longer the case. Amazing what a little re-reading can do to lower your self confidence. 
Anyway, any and all critiques greatly appreciated, heaven knows I need it. XD
